"He'd probably promise us the moon if he thought it'd save his skin," Reillana nudges the unconsious man's form with her boot. "But we don't have any better leads. I say we interrogate him and then turn him in, gods know we could use the coin."
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Barkot nods at Paëral's suggestion, pats down his pockets, and raises his eyebrows in embarrassment.
"Got nuttin'. Sorry! T'ought I wuz bedder prepared. Shud I heal 'im up? Or mebbe we oughtta dump one a' dese flasks down his t'roat?"
Sighing, Reillana reaches down to brush the unconscious man's foot, murmuring the words of a healing spell.
Sputtering, the man comes to, his head swiveling to and fro, attempting to find a way to escape. He tests his bonds, then slumps back, defeated.
"Fine. Let's get this over with. Take me in already."
Paëral nods. "Answer him...what do you know of Natalya?"
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+1
Without even looking up, he mutters, "The smelly one mentioned someone named Natalya. It seemed like a good opportunity."
Paeral senses no further deception.
"I would have got away with it, if it weren't for that darn griffon."
He squints his eyes at Squint, trying to figure out if he is being taunted.
"I was referring to the half breed. Though I think you might have a bit of orc in your own blood."
He gapes. "This Natalya you are looking for is one of the Tower Girls?! And you are looking for her here in Dockway with the Wreckwash Blades watching your every step?!"
He glances around at the darkened buildings, then looks up at Paeral for salvation. "Please! Take me to prison now."
"If this is some new form of torture, I have to admit, it is effective. At this point, I'll say anything just to make the halfling stop."
He sighs, then continues. "I've never heard of this woman Natalya you are looking for. I'd never heard the name before the lot of you mentioned her while interrogating me.
I answered you honestly. My only interest was to capture you all and turn you over to the Aspis Consortium. When I learned about the local disappearances, I used that to concoct a story that would attract dumb Pathfinders.
As for any type of Sczarni, I keep my nose out of their business, and you'd be wise to do the same."
"This is tiresome," Reillana murmurs, leaning against the wall. "The man is clearly a criminal of no great knowledge or importance, a scavenger who fears the true predators. Let us turn him in for whatever reward he's worth and continue our search."
With Paeral holding his bonds, the group heads south toward the Arvensoar.
Due to the late hour, once the party makes it away from the docks, foot traffic in the city is light, and what people they do see find other places to be when they see a group marching a bound man in the direction of the barracks.
That changes as the party enters Lowcleft. Music of every variety sounds from pubs, ladies of the evening call out from balconies, smoke pours out of the doors of hookah bars.
Dance halls and play houses with brightly lit magical and alchemically lighted displays hurt the party member's eyes, as the wealthy and the low mingle together, if not together, at least in close proximity.
The party does its best to avoid the largest crowds, always keeping the towering facade of the Arvensoar in sight as a landmark. That proves very easy to do, as the great tower rises 400 feet above the ground, rising all the way to the top of the Seacleft and above.
When they reach the barracks, the party approaches the main doors. Guards stationed outside the doors focus on the party when the group walks up with a man bound in front of them.
When they get a good look at the prisoner, one of the guardsmen instantly recognizes the man. "Plutivarch? Ho Ho! Finally tried to con the wrong group, eh? Don't think I've forgotten when you used my own name when you were pretending to be a guardsman last month."
Plutivarch starts backpedaling into the party, pleading "Maybe we can work something out after all. Who was it you were looking for again? Natalya? I though you said Nate. Of course I know Natalya, one of the Tower Girls, right? Well, let's head straight over to their hideout."
The guard laughs. "Oh, I don't think so, friend. I've got a special cell for you." He and another guard take a firm grasp of Plutivarch and return Paeral's rope. They call out to another guard to escort you to an office as they lead the man away, still pleading.
You are led into a small office and told to take seats in front of a plain, very well organized desk. "Watch Officer Kasadei will speak with you in a moment."
After only a few minutes wait, a Varisian woman wearing an officer's uniform walks into the room. She is carrying a ledger with various paperwork and strides around the desk with purposeful, precise steps.
"Good evening, citizens. I am Watch Officer Kasadei. I understand we have you to thank for getting a wanted man off of the streets. I thank you.
Now, please report how you captured this man."
She looks at each of you directly with a kindly, yet perceptive eye as she waits.
"We seek a woman who has gone missing, and heard a rumor of Nidalese who might be kidnapping folk off the street. The rumors pointed towards a derelict tavern, where this Plutivarch person evidently laid an ambush. He must have been very confident or very desperate, to have attacked us when so badly outnumbered."
She makes some notes. "Plutivarch was behind those rumors? One more way he was making the watch look bad. Whenever the watch has investigated, we have found nothing.
Confident? He is an accomplished sorceror and has stopped many guards with his color sprays. I'd say you were lucky if you took him down so easily.
Kasadei asks several probing questions about the details of the attack while taking notes. When done, she closes her ledger and places a purse containing 100gp on the desk.
"I wonder. Why did he choose to attack your group?"
Embarrassed at being referred to as "the smelly one" by Plutivarch, Barkot is silent for their march through the city and their initial interview with the guardsman and Watch Officer Kasadei. When she asks about the sorcerer's motive for the attack while placing the coin pouch on the desk right front of them, he suspects a trap of some kind.
"Who knows? Seemed like we wuz jus' da first buncha guys dat went lookin'. We ain't never seen him before."
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"We are Pathfinders," Squint chirps up, completely oblivious to Barkot's suspicions. "The sorcerer mentioned that he wanted to join the Aspis Consortium, so kidnapping Pathfinders were an apt target for him."
The halfling looks around at some of the non-plussed expressions on his colleagues' faces.
The halfling smiles at his colleagues, suspecting nothing.
Kasadei nods to Squint, then gives Barkot a level look.
"Pathfinders? I shall pen a note of thanks to Lady Heidmarch personally. Does your group go by a name? Or, would you like me to include your names individually?"
Regardless of whether the party gives her a name(s), she continues after making a note in her ledger.
"You have certainly earned your bounty, as well as my time." She motions to the pouch. "How can I assist your current mission?"
"Natalya?" She looks thoughtful for a moment, then leafs through some papers.
"Natalya.... Vancaskerkin? Petty burglar with the Tower Girls? She is missing?"
Kasadei looks through a few more papers. "I don't see her name on any of the arrest logs. If she hasn't been seen, then I would imagine she had a disagreement of sorts with her superiors. You'd likely need to ask the Tower Girls if you want to find her.
Depending on the nature of the disagreement, of course. The Sczarni tend to police their own, and if the disagreement was large, she might be tied to a stone somewhere cold and wet."
"Yes! That's her." Squint looks excited. Do you know where we can find the Tower Girls?"
She considers the party for a time, then responds.
"The Sczarni are difficult to find at normal times, and moreso now. The Tower Girls are especially difficult to find since they had a fallout with the Wreckwash Blades a couple of months ago.
None of our informants knows much.
What I do know is that for a couple of weeks, they holed up in a warehouse run by a wholely disagreeable fellow named Fenster the Blight. You could ask him if he has any idea where they went afterwards."
She gives directions to the warehouse.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+4
Paëral eyes narrow a bit. "Thank you, ma'am...but what of the other disappearances? From what we were told and from what we've heard on the street, there have been an alarming number of missing people, including a disturbing amount in this district..."
Kasadei sighs and rubs her temples. "Yes, there have been reports of disappearances, each of which the watch has investigated.
We have even investigated the rumors of slavers, which I now know to be the work of Plutivarch. I can tell you, he will answer for those rumors."
She drums her fingers on the desk. "The fact is, that most of those who have gone missing have been found later on. Rumormongers never like to talk about people being found though, do they? They only pass along tales of incompetence or disinterest by the watch."
She balls a fist and brings it down on the desk lightly. "Well, we investigate all of the reports, no matter who brings them, and as far as the Watch is concerned, the case is closed!"
She calms herself. "Look, you have shown in interest in making things better for the city, and have brought in one of the rumormongers. I appreciate that, and I will let you know that contrary to the stories on the street, it is not just the vagrants and downtrodden who have gone missing.
Merchants, fishermen, shopkeepers, and laborers have also gone missing. People with jobs and connections. Most are found in a few days or weeks, but living in the slums as homeless wretches.
When questioned, they had no memory of what happened or of their life before the disappearance."
She pauses, then lowers her voice. "At the end of the day, the people show no signs of ill treatment other than the amnesia and their living conditions, so the watch considers the cases closed.
Personally, I worry about the amnesia. Something is causing it, and we haven't seen the last of it, I'm sure. I know that the Mayor has approached Lady Heidmarch. From what I hear, he is offering a bounty of 500 gold for any victim returned, though Lady Heidmarch would know more.
Well, I can offer something as well. Find out what is causing this amnesia and stop it, and I can ensure a bounty of 1000 gold in addition to the Mayor's offer."
** spoiler omitted **
Kasadei nods to Squint, then gives Barkot a level look.
"Pathfinders? I shall pen a note of thanks to Lady Heidmarch personally. Does your group go by a name? Or, would you like me to include your names individually?"
Regardless of whether the party gives her a name(s), she continues after making a note in her ledger.
"You have certainly earned your bounty, as well as my time." She motions to the pouch. "How can I assist your current mission?"
**Info dump omitted**
Barkot shakes his head as Squint spills the beans, and then sighs when Kasadei asks for their names. Dis is what happens when ya get mixed up wit' da guards. I could make up a name, but even if she bought it, one a' dese guys would jus' screw up an' call me 'Barkot' anyways.
"Name's Barkot," the half-orc growls. "An' t'anks for da skinny on Fenster da Blight. Dat warehouse, it don' happen ta have stone walls?"
"Amnesia, huh? Dat's creepy as Hell. We c'n talk to Da Heidmarch about it, but if ya got anyt'in' more it might help. Do da victims have anyt'in' in common? Like what dey was doin' when dey went missin', or dey all like ta drink at da same joint after closin' up shop fer da night, dat kinda t'ing?"
"Dat warehouse, it don' happen ta have stone walls?"
She peer at Barkot questioningly for a moment, not understanding the purpose of the question. "Stone? I don't think so." She looks at a couple of papers.
"No, the reports show that warehouse is perhaps too generous of a term. It seems that it was abandoned some time ago and Fenster decided to squat there.""Do da victims have anyt'in' in common?"
"Nothing that we have been able to identify. The victims have some from multiple districts and varied walks of life"
"I've no objection to cooperation with the guard," Reillana inclines her head at Kasadei, then stands. "Yes Paeral, let's be on our way."
Barkot shakes his head ruefully. "Coulda sworn I saw stone walls wherever dose dames were," he mutters.
After a pause, he shrugs. "Fine, let's check out da warehouse. It's da only decent lead we got. We c'n nose aroun' ta see what we c'n find out 'bout dose people dat gone missin', too. Kidnappin's bad enough widdout addin' amnesia too. People're already scared; dis keeps up, dey're gonna start stayin' home, an' pretty soon da whole city's shut down."
Repeating her thanks Kasadei shows you the way to the door and wishes the party well in their investigation.
Outside in the dark, or at least what passes for dark in the neon glow of Lowcleft, the party pauses to consider their direction.
As the party troops out of Kasadei’s office, Barkot awkwardly snatches the pouch of coins from the watch commander’s desk with a nod. He holds it carefully away from his body until they are in the vestibule of the guard station. Once they have a moment away from prying eyes, he quickly counts out 20 gold pieces and hands the coins to each member of the party. Of the 20 Barkot holds for himself, he puts 5 into his belt pouch, and wraps the other 15gp in dirty clothes shoved into his backpack to prevent them from jingling.
”Hrm. I t’ink we’re gonna have a better shot at findin’ dese Tower Gals in da middle of da night den we will in da mornin'. Same wit' whoever's kidnappin' folks an' stealin' deir memories. An' I still got some juice left if we run inta trouble. But," he says, stifling a yawn, "I wouldn't say no to a night's sleep in a decent bed. In a room wit' a lock."
He takes a moment to consider the gold newly-added to his pouch (ignoring the coins he hid away in his pack), then — feeling flush — adds quietly, "An' mebbe a bat'?"